Evergrace
by Agent Artemis
Summary: When Katniss finds a girl unconscious on her lawn in the destroyed District 12, she dosen't know what to think. Who is she? Why is she claiming to be a 'demigod' Why does she seem to recongnize Peeta? Why is Gale suddenly so fond of her? And...why does she seem so familiar? REWRITE!
1. Katniss visits twelve

_A/N: Hello! Welcome to my edited edition of my fanfiction "Evergrace". This one will be better, but different. Instead of beginning in the start of Catching Fire, this one will begin in Mockingjay. I do not own Hunger Games or Pjo. They belong to their respected owners. _

I stare down at my shoes, watching as a fine layer of ash settles on the worn leather. This is the bed my sister, Prim, and I shared. The chimney had collapsed in a charred heap. Almost nothing remained of District 12. A month ago, the capitol's firebombs had obliterated anything they were dropped on. The houses in the Seam (where I stood now), the shops in the town, even the justice building was offered no mercy. The only area that had escaped incineration was the Victor's Village. I don't know why exactly. Maybe for refuge for visiting capitol citizens? But no one was returning except me. And for only a brief visit. The authorities in District 13 were whole-heartedly against me returning. They viewed it as costly, pointless, and dangerous. Which explains why at least a dozen invisible hovercrafts were surrounding the area overhead. They were placed here for my protection. Coming here _was_ pointless, but I had to see it. I was so desperate to return that I blackmailed the authorities. I had to come back. If they didn't allow me; I wouldn't participate in anything. Finally, Plutarch Heavensbee had thrown up his hands in defeat.

I felt a sharp pain in my left temple; the same place where Johanna Mason hit me with a coil of wire. Memories swirl in my skull. What was true; what was false? The drugs they gave me confused me constantly; making me see things that weren't there. Though I'm still not entirely convinced that I was hallucinating when the floor of my hospital room turned into a carpet of writhing venomous snakes.

I chant the simple facts in my head; a technique the doctors suggested.

"Katniss? Should I come down?" I hear my best friend Gale's voice. It reaches me through my headset the rebel leader insisted I wear. He's in a hovercraft, watching me every move. I realized I was crouched down, my head in between my hands.

"No. I'm fine," I stammer uncertainly.

To reinforce my words, I stand up straight and move away from my old house. He had insisted coming with me, but had relented when I refused his company. Some walks you have to take alone.

I stick to the road out of habit, watching as charred bodies pass me. _I killed you,_ I think. _And you. And you. _

And I did. It was me who sent these actions into motion. I sent Panem into chaos. _"Katniss Everdeen, the girl who was on fire, you may have provided a spark that, left unattended, may grow into an inferno that destroys Panem." _It turns out he wasn't simply trying to scare me. He was, perhaps, trying to enlist my help. But I already had no control over the fire.

More than ninety percent of the population in my district I dead. The remaining refugees are in District 13, which is probably the same as being homeless forever. I know I shouldn't think that; I should be grateful. They welcomed us. But I cannot can around the fact that District 3 was instrumental in 12's destruction.

Gale was responsible for so many survivors. Once I destroyed the arena, the electricity was cut off. He headed as many people as possible to the meadow. They forced down the fence, then watched as the raging bombs destroyed all they've ever known, and took the lives of the ones they loved. They rescued some stragglers after the bombing, and survived for three days. Then, the hovercraft from District 13 had unexpectedly arrived to evacuate them. They were happy to be alive. They took the rescue as kindness. But I had been leaked the real reason; they need us for the rebellion. New breeding stock. That's what we were. I hate them. But I pretty much hate everyone now; especially me.

When I see the charred remains of the bakery, and remember that Peeta's family had been killed, I ran away. I can't take the horrifying images of Peeta being tortured.

I know Coin thinks they should have rescued him instead of me. But I am the new face of the rebellion, or, at least, I am to be the new face of the rebellion.

I walk into my house in the Victor's Village. I pick up a few piece for remembrance purposes. My parent's wedding photo, a blue hair ribbon for Prim, the family book for medicinal and edible plants. I spin on my heel at the sound of a hiss. His back is arched, ears flattened. There stands the ugliest cat in history. "Buttercup."

"Come here, boy." I can tell he's angry at us for abandoning him. He blinks those unpleasant yellow eyes. "Want to see Prim?"

Her name catches his attention. It's one of the only words that means anything to him. He gives a rusty meow, and I stuff him in my game bag once I dig it out of the closet. I grab my father's hunting jacket and slip it on. The soft leather comforts me. My nose twitches. A perfect white rose sits in the dresser in the same room where the closet is located.

He left it her for me. President Snow. I begin to gag. How long as this been here?

I run downstairs, and wrench open the door, and see a strange sight.

A girl was laid on the lawn; a girl that had not been there before. Her spiky black hair stuck out against her pale freckled skin. Her eyes were shut; a bad sign. She was wearing silver camouflage pants. I approached her, and knelt down and checked her pulse. I looked over her. She was also wearing a leather jacket, and a t-shirt that read "Death to Barbie." It showed what looked like a doll with an arrow through it's head. Combat boots were clad on her feet, and a silver circlet that reminded me of a tiara encircled her head (which in my opinion didn't match). A silver chain bracelet was wrapped around her wrist, and her ear rings were shaped like human skulls. Somehow, she seemed familiar.

I blinked my gray eyes. Her heart was still beating in her chest. How did she survive? I shake her shoulder, but she refuses to respond.

The hovercraft drops a ladder, and Gale comes down. He crouches beside the girl. "Is she from the capitol,"he asks. I hadn't considered the possibility. He confiscated the bag of arrows the was thrown over her shoulder, and took the bow. He felt her pockets, and brought out a tube of something I don't recognize. "Come on. Let's bring her back. If she's from the capitol, we may be able to extract information from her."

I shudder.

Gale lifts the girl, grabs onto the ladder, and motions for me to do the same. Buttercup thrashes and I jab him with my elbow, which only infuriates him more. I hear people in the hovercraft begin to question why Gale has a girl in his arms. By the sound of their voices, some are ready to interrogate her. If I was able to help her in the situation, I would. She didn't seem like a capitol citizen. We helped inside once the ladder is brought up, and some older soldiers whisk the girl away. I hoped they wouldn't terrorize her too much.

"You all right?"

I wanted to scream, _He left me a rose!_

I wondered about the girl? Who was she? I would ask to visit her once she had awoken.

My thoughts wandered back to the rose. It was like a message. _I can find you. I can reach you. Perhaps I am watching you now. _

I gasped.

What if the girl was another message?

_A/N: I hope this was better than the first version. I'm staring at Mockingjay because I don't want this fic to take too long to write (like another one I wrote where the time line goes throughout two novels). Hope you liked it! Review, please! _


	2. Thalia meets the Mockingjay

_A/N: Welcome to the second chapter. Five reviews already? Thank you! And for Amber Tate: I had to. Sadly, I cannot take private messages anymore because of personal reasons. Thank you! I don't own Hunger Games or Percy Jackson. They belong to their rightful creators. _

Were there capitol hovercrafts following us now? I watch the skies anxiously for anything, but nothing pursues our hovercraft. But I still hold my breath in worry. After several minutes, I hear Plutarch say that the skies are clear of any threats. I begin to relax a little. Gale nods at my game bad. Buttercup's howls are beginning to get more audible. I groan. "Now I know why you had to go back."

"If there was any chance of his recovery." I dump the bag on a chair, and he growls. "Oh shut up," I tell the bag as I sit in a cushioned chair across from it. "Pretty bad down there?" He sits next to me. "Couldn't be much worse." I look in his gray eyes and see my own grief reflected there. We link hands, holding onto the part of 12 Snow has failed to destroy. We sit in silence for a while. Twenty minutes later, Plutarch mentions that the girl has awoken. I ask to meet her. "Be careful; she seems hostile," he warns me.

He leads me to a door that leads to an emergency hospital room. A few doctors stand outside it. They clear the way for me to walk into the room. When I approach her, she is wide awake, and sitting up in the hospital bed she is strapped to. She is struggling against the binds that hold her pale arms down. I notice that her irises are blue.

Electric blue.

I also notice the burns.

_Thalia _

I look up as a olive-toned girl walks into the room. Her ebony hair is styled into braid and cascades over her shoulder. Her eyes are the exact same shade as Annabeth's. She is covered is ash and soot. A flashback flashes behind my eyes.

_The strange airplanes are dropping what looked like bombs into the dusty city. Coal dust billows each time a bomb reaches the ground. Fire ignites everywhere, burning citizens and building. Agonized screams fill the air. I clutch my ears and try to find shelter from the death sentence. How did I get here in the first place? The last thing I remembered I was visiting camp! I stumble through the smoke, and reach a forest. I try to ignore the cries filled with pain echoing behind my back. I stumble into a ditch and loss consciousness._

_When I come to, the first thing I register is pain. My face, arms, and shoulders are burned, and my eyes sting from the smoke. I rise, and stumble into the still burning city. I catch sight of an unscathed village and fall onto the lawn of a house, and allow myself to close my burning eyes once again. _

The girl stands awkwardly, staring me down. "Well, can you tell me where the Hades I am?" I snap at her. She raises an eyebrow. 

"Hades? As for where you are, you are in a hovercraft headed for District 13." I had heard one of the wacko doctors mention the words "districts" and "capitol", but I just thought they were crazy. Was everyone on this airplane out of their mind? I glare at her. "Where are Percy and Annabeth? Did you find them too? Are they hurt?"

She gasps. "You mean you were with others?" I shake my head."Not exactly. All I remember is that I was visiting camp, and then I appear in this city that is getting bombed, and then I wake up, pass out again, and wake up here," I reply.

"Well, I'm sorry. I found you outside my house, but there wasn't anybody else,"she says. I feel a pang of grief in my chest. Were they...dead? I choke as I think these words. No. They couldn't be. I notice how technologically advanced the room is. We sure didn't have these machines where I came from.

"Who are you? And what was the place getting bombed?" I ask. "I am Katniss. Katniss Everdeen." The name sound slightly familiar. I also feel a pang of nostalgia and crushing grief as I look at her. "And that was District 12, my home." She looks down.

"District...," I trail off for a moment, "No. That was camp half-blood!"

"Camp half-blood?" she asks.

"Training site for children of the gods," I say, enlightening her.

"No. That was District 12. Who are you anyway?" she says, pointing an accusing finger at me.

"Thalia, daughter of Zeus."

"Zeus?"

"King of the gods."

"Gods?"

I shook my head. There was no reasoning with this chick. A woman with luscious blond hair wearing a long white coat slips in the room. "We are nearing District 13. You will go straight to the hospital so we can threat those burns of yours," she says, acknowledging me with a model worthy smile. Katniss gives me a weird stare and turns to the door.

"Hey," I call after her. A light bulb had just flickered on in my brain. The "hovercraft", the advanced technology, the weird people...was year was it?

_Katniss_

"What year is it?" she asks. I tell her the year. Her blue eyes widen in horror. I leave the room before she can say anything else. What was wrong with her? Had her burns given her brain damage? Can flames even do that to a person?

From the air, 13 looks about as cheerful as 12. The rubble isn't smoking, the way the capitol shows it on television, but there is no life above ground. In the seventy-five years since the dark days-when 13 was said to have been obliterated-almost all new construction had been underground. There was already an underground facility here, for government leaders in a time of war or a refuge for people if life on the surface became unlivable. Most important, it was the center of the nuclear weapon development program. District 13 gained control of it, then trained their missiles on the capitol. They struck a bargain: they would play dead in exchange for being left alone. They were forced to accept. They thought, that without help, 13 would die off on it's own. Their hopes were futile. You cannot go outside except for exercise and sunlight. You cannot waste anything there. You have to follow a very specific schedule, which is stamped on your arm.

Once we land, "Thalia" is rushed to the hospital. She is wheeled past me in a gurney. I hear her shouting curses at the doctors who keep trying to sedate her with an injection. Gale shoots her a disapproving glance, and he and I walk to compartment 307. "What am I going to tell them about twelve?" He frowns. "I doubt they'll ask for details. They saw it burn. They'll be worrying about how you're handling it. Like I am." He presses his hand against my cheek.

I walk into the apartment. My mother and Prim are home for _Reflection. _I dump Buttercup out of my game bag and it becomes _Cat Adoration. _Prim ties the blue ribbon around the cat's neck. My mother hugs the wedding photo. We are walking down to the dining hall when Gale says to me, "They need us in command." I follow him for what I'm sure will be another Mockingjay session. The television is on, and some member are interrogating Thalia, who was brought into the room after she refused the injection (by refusal I mean punching the doctor in the eye). I notice her jacket and shirt are off. Her chest was wrapped in bandages. What burns are visible are coated in a creamy white substance.

Caesar Flickerman is onscreen, dressed in a sparkly suit, preparing to give an interview. The camera pulls back and I see his guest.

It's Peeta.

Thalia's head snaps in the direction I am staring, and she lets out a blood-curdling scream.

_A/N: Yeah, Thalia survived the bombing. She's a demigod. She can do stuff like that. Thanks to everyone who out the story on favorite/alert or reviewed. Review, please! _


	3. Thalia recieves a new nickname

_A/N: I do not own either Pjo or Hunger Games. _

A sound escapes me. The same combination of a gasp and a groan that comes from being submerged in water, deprived of oxygen to the point of physical pain. Thalia's scream falters as the needle plunges through her skin, and the sedative enters her bloodstream. A doctor stands behind her, doctor Jennia, a rebel raised here in District 13. She has brought an emergency injection in case Thalia got out of control during the interrogation. Thalia's eyes begin to close because of the overdose of drugs that are now in her system. A few assistants rush in and carry her out; Thalia mumbling weak protests. This all happens in under a minute. I push people aside until I am right in front of the television screen; I rest my hand on it. Peeta looks healthy; glowing, flawless. His manner's composed, serious. I can't reconcile this image with the battered, bleeding boy who haunts me in my hours hours of sleep.

Caesar settles himself more comfortably, and gives Peeta a long look. "So...Peeta...welcome back."

Peeta smiles faintly. "I bet you thought you'd done your last interview with me, Caesar."

"I confess, I did," says Caesar. "The night before the Quarter Quell...well, who would have thought we'd see you again?" Peeta frowns. "It wasn't part of my plan, that's for sure," replies Peeta with a frown.

Caesar leans in. "I think it was clear to all of us what your plan was. To sacrifice yourself in the arena so that Katniss Everdeen and your child could survive."

"That was it. Clear and simple. But other people had plans as well."

I internally agree. Has Peeta guessed, then, how the rebels used us as pawns? How my rescue was arranged from the beginning? And finally, how our mentor, Haymitch Abernathy, betrayed us both for a cause he seemed to have no interest in?

Has he guessed or had he been told? I notice the creases between his eyebrows. I drink in his wholeness, thankful that he has not been tortured or killed by Snow and his vile assistants. "Why don't you tell us about the last night in the arena. Help us sort some things out."

_Thalia_

The location on my back where Jennia (the doctor who was assigned to me) jabbed me with the needle was beginning to get sore. The nurses lay me down on the hospital bed I had originally been brought to. The sedative had worked quickly. I snarl at them, wishing I looked threatening. Sadly, I guess I don't, because they proceed to bind me to the bed. My head swirls; I feel dizzy. I peer at my surroundings through my drooping eyes. The room smells like a doctor's office. A table was set up a few yards away from where I lay; on it's surface lie many things like cotton balls, needles, gloves, and bowls of water. The floor and walls were pure white tiles.

I lay back, misery rising in my chest. I was apparently in the future, I had no idea if Percy and Annabeth or anybody else was alive or not(come to think of it... I had no idea whether they were even transported here with me or not), and strangers were jabbing me in the back with shots. This was definitely the worst day ever.

I glanced up at the T.V. that was set up in the corner of the room. I noticed the blond boy who was speaking immediately. He started yelling. "Too busy playing allies with the others! I should have never let them separate us! That's when I lost her!"

"I know him! I know him," I yell, pointing at the screen, becoming slightly more aware.

Jennia hops over to the television and shuts it off. "Who turned this on again? It will only agitate her more", she scolds, her scarlet colored hair flying behind her. She turns back to me, and her voice becomes soothing. I notice that they had stuck another needle into me while I was looking at her. Her voice tunes in and out as I stared into her blue-green irises. I notice that she was freckled across her face, like me.

"Don't worry. We'll get you back into shape in no time. And then you can go into training so you can become a solider."

Wait. Huh? Who said anything about me being trained by these people? I attempted to raise my head. She caught my bewildered expression. "Or a doctor, if that's what you'd like."

"Why," I choke out.

"Well, you have no other place to go! There's a rebellion raging out there, you know. We've got to put you to use somehow."

I gagged in surprise. Rebellion?

"When you wake up, you can tell us where you came from. And then we'll go from there."

I involuntarily slipped into the blackness of sleep.

**000**

When I come to, the doctor's room is pitch black. Only the light from the door leading out is the only source of light I have. I look down and notice they have changed my clothes. I shudder to think of people I don't know undressing me. They are gray pants. I am still shirtless; with horror I realize the bandages on my..._upper chest_... have been changed also. The burns I received sting slightly, and my arms are still binded to the bed. I roll my eyes. It's not like I want to disembowel them in their sleep!

I try to rest, but worried thoughts keep entering my brain. After about an hour, the door creaks open. A male nurse with caramel skin stands there. "You have a request for a visit. Shall I go fetch them?"

"Yeah, sure."

He leaves. While he is gone, I hum the "nyan cat" theme to entertain myself. When the door opens again, the person flicks on the light. It is another boy, one I recognize from earlier. He has olive skin, and dark hair. He is muscular, and looks about eighteen or nineteen. As he pulls up a chair and sits down next to me, I notice his eyes are the same color as Katniss's eyes.

"Gale Hawthorne," he says, motioning to his chest. He is wearing the same pants as I am, with a matching shirt. Like in the interrogation room, I want to cover my chest, but it is futile. Though he doesn't seem to mind. _Boys_, I think irritably.

"They said you don't seem to know anything about us, so I volunteered to explain," he says, running a hand through his tangled hair. I wonder if they had to wake him up. "You're name is...Thalia, correct?"

"Yep," I reply.

He reclines sleepily. "You are in District 13, the center of the rebellion against the capitol."

"Yeah. I've heard people mentioning stuff like that," I say.

He looks at me. "So...you really don't know anything? Where have you been you're whole life? Under a rock?" He looks disbelieving.

"Yeah, I don't know anything. Well, I do know things. Like, what two plus two is. And how the _Deathly Hallows _ended. And what care-bear rules over all the other care-bears. And what-"

"Okay, okay, stop. Considering I have _no _idea what you're talking about-"

"You don't know what two plus two equals? Sad, just sad."

He groans. "Okay, long story short, the capitol created the hunger games, a game where twenty-four kids go and fight to the death til one remains; otherwise known as the victor. The girl you met earlier, my friend, is one of them."

"A game where twenty-three kids die? That's just barbaric!"

"I know. She had to play in the games again, but the rebels here in 13 rescued her and a few other victors: Finnick Odair and Beetee. The boy on the T.V. was another victor. Peeta. The one on the television."

"I know him," I say enthusiastically. Or, at least, I think I do. He must be him! He's either him, or a weird futuristic doppelganger. Gale raises an eyebrow. "You do? But I thought you lived under a rock."

I roll my eyes. "Never mind. Go on."

"Well, the districts who supply the "tributes" are in rebellion currently. 13 was destroyed in the first war; well, not really. They just went into hiding. We are now the center of the rebellion."

"And you're from...?"

"12. Like Katniss."

I remember the burning district. I look at Gale and wonder if he has a family. Did they make it?

"And now, Katniss had agreed to be the Mockingjay, the face of the televised rebellion. In the morning, you will attend the session when she agrees. There, you will be questioned. Answer honestly; Coin is very harsh."

"Question me? But I thought we already established that I didn't know anything!"

"They aren't taking any risks", he says with a watered down look of sympathy. I glare at him, and start to yell.

"I'm not from here! I'm not from the capitol or any of the districts! I'm from camp half-blood! I'm the daughter of Zeus; a demigod! I'm not even from this time period", I scream at him. He stares at me in confusion. He stands and backs away. "Okay, you're insane."

"Thanks. So are you," I say with sass.

He laughs half-heartedly. "See you in the morning, sparky."

"SPARKY!"

**000**

Gale walks out of Thalia's hospital apartment rubbing his head. He shuts off the light and closes the door, ignoring the sounds of her protest to her new nickname.

"Yep, she's insane," he says to a nurse. The nurse nods with a mumble of "Thought so."

"Are you still planning to train her?"

"Yeah; we've got some insane ones."

Gale walks towards his apartment, where his family was still asleep.

Was it just him...or did he literally see electricity spark on her pale skin?

_A/N: Ew. Poor Thalia. Somebody changed her bandages on her "chest" without her knowing. I feel bad for her. And I'm sorry; I'm prone to short chapters. In my own defense, they look longer on my computer when I write them. Thank for favorites/alerts/reviews! R&R!_


	4. Katniss the celebrity advertiser

_A/N: I don't own Pjo or Hunger Games. And to bluedolphin12: You're nice! I like you! P.S.- I love dolphins. I got to see some from my condo at the beach every single morning when they swam by! Every single morning...wait, I'm talking too much again. :(_

In the morning, I see that _7:00-Breakfast _is directly followed by _7:30-Command_, which is fine since I may as well start the ball rolling. At the dining hall, I flash my schedule, which includes some kind of ID number, in front of a sensor. As I slide my tray along the metal shelf before the vats of food. Breakfast is a bowl if hot grain, a cup of milk, and a small scoop or a fruit or vegetable. Today it's mashed turnips. I sit at the table assigned to the Everdeens and the Hawethornes (and some more refugees), As I shovel down food, wishing for seconds, I see that they have brought Thalia into the dining hall. This is the first time that I notice that her skin gives off a slight silver aura. How peculiar. Maybe she _is_ from the capitol. After she receives her food, she is brought to sit by Gale. I heard that he volunteered to help with the unusual captive. As I eat my food, I wonder why.

"What is this," Thalia says, poking her grains with her spoon, a disgusted expression twisting her features. "That's grains," I say quietly. She sure does have the mannerisms of a capitol citizen. She gags. "They feed you guys this stuff," she says, appalled. "They're also feeding _you _this _stuff," _Gale says, obviously teasing her.

"You guys don't have _Lucky Charms_? Chocolate milk? Where's the sugar? What kind of twisted future is this?"

Gale rolls his eyes at the girl, but my eyes widen. Twisted future?

"How old are you," I ask her. "I'm fifteen," she says, pushing her turnips onto Gale's plate. He gladly takes them, and hands them to me, along with his own. I don't like the charity, but I'm also grateful. "A spoiled fifteen year old," Gale puts in.

"Hey! I'm not _near_ spoiled where I come from! You should see Drew!"

I poke my extra turnips. "You shouldn't do this. Really, it's probably illegal or something."

"Illegal? Okay, this_ is_ a twisted future!"

"What can they do? They've already got my communicuff," says Gale.

I get an idea. "Hey! Maybe I can make that a condition of being the Mockingjay!"

"That I can give you extra food?"

"No, that we can hunt!"

Thalia straightens up immediately. "Hunting," Thalia asks. "You can hunt, sparky?" She scowls. "Shut up, Hawthorne. Yes I can. I was in...a hunting club...back in the past", she says. I notice that she suddenly refrains from using certain words. She must not want us to think she's crazier than she already is. Though it is futile; she's already said some pretty crazy things.

"Do it. Now's the time. You could ask for the moon and they'd have to find a way to give it to you."

"Hey the moon is already the property of-," Thalia cuts herself off. I ignore the blue-eyed teen.

Gale agrees to go with me to Command. Thalia is lead off by guards; to where, I have no clue. "Hey...about what Thalia said earlier...," I trail off.

"You think maybe she should come hunting with us? Could so her some good. Maybe the fresh air will help her insanity."

By the time we go to Command, Coin, Plutarch, and all their other people have already assembled. The sight of Gale raises some eyebrows, but no one questions him. Directly after we arrive, we meet Thalia again. She has on her old camouflage pants, and a plain gray shirt (so she is not shirtless for the session). I wonder where her other clothes are. She is messing with the silver bracelet that they never took from her (they never took away her ear rings either). She shoots me a glance. My mental notes have become jumbled together, so I ask for a paper and pencil. My sudden interest in proceedings throws them off; they probably had some lecture for me. Coin herself hands me the supplies. I scrawl down my priorities. _Buttercup. Hunting. Peeta's immunity. Announced in public. _

_Think. What else do you want? _

I close my eyes and write as the stench of blood and roses hits me.

_I KILL SNOW. _

Plutarch coughs. "You done there?" I stand. "Yes, so this is the deal. I'll be your Mockingjay. But I have some conditions." I smooth out the list. "My family gets to keep our cat. I want to hunt. With Gale. In the woods. And I would like Thalia to accompany us when she can. I think it will do her some good."

The second one starts an argument. Coin silences them. "No. Let them. A quarter mile radius. Two hours. With communication units and tracker anklets. The food will be used in the kitchen. Thalia will be allowed to attend, but only if we find her...trustworthy." She shoots a hard look at Thalia, who is raising an eyebrow at me. I give her a stiff nod.

"Gale. I'll need him with me to do this." Coin looks at me. "Do you want him presented as your new lover?" My mouth drops. "What?" Thalia giggles; Gale scowls at her. "I think we should continue the current romance. Cutting her off from Peeta will cause to audience to have less sympathy for her. Especially since they think she's pregnant."

"You're...PREGNANT," shouts Thalia, standing up.

"No. It was a hoax", I answer.

Coin nods at Plutarch. "Agreed. Gale will be shown as a fellow rebel. Perhaps her cousin."

"We're not cousins," we say. "Off screen, he's all yours." The conversation rattles me. My cheeks burn.

"When the war is over, if we've won, I want Peeta to be pardoned. No form of punishment will be inflicted. Same goes for the other tributes. Johanna. Enobaria." Frankly, I don't care about Enobaria, but it seems wrong to leave her out.

"No," Coin says flatly. "Wait...punishment...on...Peeta? What did he do", Thalia whispers to Plutarch, pausing before forcing herself to say his name. "He called for a cease fire. He wanted us to cease the rebellion," answers Plutarch.

"Yes. It's not their fault you abandoned them in the arena. Who knows what the capitol is doing to them?"

"They'll be tried with other war criminals and treated as the tribunal sees fit."

"No! They will be granted immunity! You will personally pledge this in front of the entire population of District 13, and the rest of 12. Soon. Today. It will be recorded for future generations. You will hold yourself and your government responsible for their safety, or you'll find yourself another Mockingjay!"

"That's her! Right there! With the costume, gunfire in the background, just a hint of smoke," Flavia whispers.

I want to glare at her, but it would draw my attention away from Coin. Coin says, "All right. Call a national security assembly during Reflection today. Anything left?" I glance at my list. "I kill Snow."

"When the time comes, I'll flip you for it", Coin says with the hint of smile. Maybe she's right. I am not the only one with a claim to Snow's life. Coin's eyes flicker to the clock. "All right. Time to question the prisoner." The guards move to Thalia and grab her arm tightly. "Ow," she squeaks. I can tell they're hurting her. They move towards the door. I can also tell that the questioning will not be pretty. "Wait!"

Coin looks at me again.

"I'll question her. I'll do it. I'll give her answers to you," I say. I know it's not much, but it's all I can do to stop the president from terrorizing Thalia

"No."

"Do you want your Mockingjay?" I glare at her. She relents once more. I smirk, superior.

Coin and the guards leave, leaving Thalia, Gale, Plutarch. Fulvia, and myself alone. "I know you have mixed feeling about participating. I hope this will help," Plutarch says, handing me a sketchbook. I flip through it, seeing drawings of myself in Mockingjay costumes. "Cinna."

_I'm still betting on you. _

"When did he..."

"He made me promise not to show you this until you'd agreed to be the Mockingjay. I think after the Quarter Quell announcement. We have the uniforms. Beetee's got something really special for you down in the armory."

"You're going to be the best-dressed rebel in history," Gale says with a smile.

"I'm still very confused about all of this," Thalia says with a look of misery. "I'll talk to you later about it," I promise.

"Our plan is to launch an Airtime Assault. To make a series of what we call "propos"- which is short for propaganda spots- featuring you, and broadcast them to the entire population of Panem."

"So...you're going to advertise the rebellion," Thalia says, "And she's going to be like the famous actors in those commercials adverting stuff?"

"Yes."

Thalia puts her head in her hands. "I want to go home," she moans.

_A/N: I got to pet baby cows yesterday! They were so cute! They were only a week old! Thanks to anyone who favorite(d)/alert/review(d) this story so far. R&R!_


	5. Finnick Odair

_A/N: Hi! I don't own Percy Jackson or Hunger Games! MAY THE GODS BE EVER IN YOUR FAVOR! (ha...get it?)_

_Thalia_

After explaining that some man named "Beetee" (whom I vaguely remember from the conversation with Gale the previous night) would struggle for control when broadcasting the propos, I was escorted back to my dungeon. Jennia was waiting for me, with more medicine I was forced to take for my injuries.

"You've got a few days to go before your fully healed, but then you'll be able to go wherever you want," she told me when I complained about the guards. She comments that my hair is dirty, brings me to a bathroom down the hall, and assists me into a bath. I am allowed to keep my bandages on, and she fishes a pair of sleep shorts out for me to wear (thank the gods). It seems that everyone here wasn't embarrassed by nudity, much to my dismay.

I lift my arms to me head, but immediately drop them once I register the pain. "Ouch!" She clucks her tongue. "Are your shoulders sore?" I nod. She smiles. "As anticipated." Her fingers massage the shampoo onto my scalp. I relax a little.

"How are you liking it here," Jennia says, making conversation.

"The food is nasty and everyone is weird," I say. "Yep. Definitely not liking it."

She frowns. "Don't worry. You get used to it after a while. And if we win the rebellion, you may get to chose what district you want to live in." I jerk, not expecting these words. I hadn't even thought about settling here. I guess I just internally figured I would find a way back to my own time. Maybe...that wasn't possible now. I force back tears at the thought. There would be many things to think about if I stayed here. Percy and Annabeth. Lady Artemis. The other hunters. My father. I would have no connection to them if I stayed. Yep. No way. Not staying.

Wait.

What if the gods were still here?

My eyes widen.

I could receive help from one of the gods. I could go back home. "Um, Jennia, can you get the cream? My burns sting," I say. She leaves.

Okay, I only have a minute. I hastily turn the knob to turn on the shower. The water beats down on the water already in the tub. I take out the drachma I saved from my jacket when they stripped me down to bandage me (I had stuck it under the bandages wrapping around my upper torso). I throw it into the steam (even though there is no rainbow) and whisper, "Iris, goddess of the rainbow, accept my offering."

The connection and the shower suddenly cuts off, and I am left in silence.

"Alright, let's treat those burns."

**000**

After the bath, I lay back down on my hospital bed, and drown in the ocean of my new bout of depression. I ask Jennia about the districts to distract myself.

"Well, there is one; they deal with luxury items. And Two who are professionals in masonry. Three takes care of electronics; four is fishing. Five deals with power. Six is transportation. Seven is lumber. Eight is textiles. Nine is grain. Ten is livestock. Eleven is agriculture, and twelve is...well, was mining. And then there is the capitol; the tyrannical center of us all. We, thirteen, used to produce nuclear weapons for the capitol until we were "wiped out"."

I consider this. One evil government who using it's districts as slaves and kills off their kids. No wonder they rebelled.

If worse comes to worse-and I can't return-I think living in four would be cool. They fish, so they must have oceans. Even if I was a child of Zeus, I admired the beauty of the ocean. Maybe seven, ten, or eleven if I couldn't live there.

I sigh.

The door creaks open. A man stands there in a hospital gown. He is holding a small rope, which has several knots tied in it. He had bronze hair and eyes the color of the ocean. He is absentmindedly knotting another knot in his rope.

Jennia turns around once the door opens. "Finnick", she asks. He nods; the dreamy look on his face lightens. "I heard people saying that Katniss has a new acomplice," he says. He looks at me. "I had to see her for myself."

"People know about me," I ask the man. He is undeniably attractive. He nods. "Someone must have leaked the information," he says.

He comes closer. "Where are you from...," he trails off.

"My name is Thalia, and I'm not from anywhere in this... country," I say.

"Panem. What do you mean? We are the only living civilization in this world. Well, that we know of", he replies, confusion crossing his gorgeous features. I shake my head. I couldn't tell him the truth. Having Hawethorne and Katniss think I'm mentally unstable is bad enough.

Jennia touches his shoulder, and he slightly flinches. They go into the hallway. I hear every word they say, even though it's obvious that they don't want me to.

"Don't say anything Finnick. She is injured, and we don't want her agitated. Especially since Katniss is going to question her soon."

"What wrong with her?"

"Well, I overheard her telling the Hawethrone boy that she's not from this time."

"Any theories?"

"We think that maybe she hit her head, or she saw something that traumatized her. Katniss found her when she went to District 12, and it turns out she was there during the bombing. We also think she was probably a 12 citizen, but the clothes she was wearing lead us to think otherwise."

Finnick appears back in the room, and I notice he's eying me with suspicion. Does he think I'm a spy or something? I hope not. I ask him, and he says no. I think he believes what Jennia told him, which disgruntles me. But I guess it's better than a spy. Maybe throughout time, I can convince someone to believe me.

He leaves, while I think about ways to sway someone to my side.

I need someone on my side. Especially since everyone here thinks I'm a spy. I can tell Coin doesn't trust me at all. And she's the president of the whole place. That means I need an equivalent to a lawyer.

I know that Katniss is coming soon.

Maybe with some persuading, she'll be my "lawyer."

_I hate this. I hate this. I hate this SO MUCH. It's short and...BLECH. Why can't I write today? I'm sorry that this took so long. I procrastinated and played video games nonstop. And I'm sorry this sucks. I promise the next chapter will be better. _


	6. New faces and a night in the Capitol

_Finnick: She doesn't own PJO or HG; all rights go to their respected creators. _

_Me:...Have my babies. _

_Finnick: *runs away*_

_P.S- This chapter will contain some OC(s) but don't worry. No oc/canon or stues. They will not be that important later on. _

_Thalia_

A little while later, Jennia pulls up a chair and takes a seat beside me. "Before Katniss visits you, we have some children your age who are going to help you. Do you promise to behave," she asks. I nod. She leaves; I wait for the new kids to arrive. I wonder about them.

Then the door opens, and I see them.

There is a girl with curly strawberry blond hair. She is pale and extremely tall, maybe six feet. Her full lips are stretched into a smile, and she stands stiffly. Her chocolate browns eyes are small, not in proportion to her wide jawline. The boy is shorter with raven ebony hair and tan skin. He is skinny, and his large blue eyes are flicking around warily. His hands are clenched fists at his side.

"Hello. My name is Alana Jemmings. Soilder in training. This is my acquaintance, Ralston Tompenkes," the girl says. The boys waves slightly, and stares intently at the tiles. "We grew up here in District 13, and since you will be trained soon, we will be assisting you. That sound good?"

I shake my head in a nod. Ralston and Alana seem to be standing stiffly, as if they are being assessed by some general. They are both wearing the typical gray outfits everyone around is wearing.

Alana smiles again, and shakes my hand. The doctors have allowed me to be freed from the restraints; they must be starting to trust me. I vow to myself that I won't start any trouble, as to keep it that way. Ralston sticks out a small hand, and quickly but vigorously shakes mine. He seems like a paranoid little fellow. I wonder what happened to him. I look at his hands, and notice some thin lines that look like scars crisscrossing over the skin. He pulls away once I notice them.

"I hope we can get to know each other," Alana says. "Well, that is if...", she trails off, staring deep into my blue eyes. I know. Katniss and the others may not find me trustworthy. Ralston runs out of the room, and Alana follows him. I hear a little sigh escape her.

A nurse strides in and kneels down to assist me off of the bed. I walk beside her as she leads me into the cramped hallway. Doors line the hall, and I sometimes catch glimpses of the dainty rooms. "What happened to that kid back there? You know, Ralston?"

The nurse grimaces. "He was an avox. A capitol slave. He served the District three tributes I believe. You know, he would assist them until they went into the arena. Plutarch brought him back a two years ago; sympathized with him since he was so young."

"A capitol slave? What did he do?"

"I think he tried to run away from his district when he was old enough to be reaped for the games. They caught him sneaking out of the fence."

"He didn't talk at all."

"Well, duh. Avox's don't have tongues."

I gasped. My stomach churned as terrifying images formed in my mind. I suddenly felt sick. I stopped and clutched my elbows. _I won't throw up. I won't throw up, _I chanted in my mind.

The nurse rushed me down the hall. We halted in front of a door. I gripped the knob and scooted inside the room. It was plain, with beige walls and white carpet. A tabled was set up, and Katniss sat there. A pen and paper lay in front of her. Her gray eyes flickered to me, and she inclined her head in acknowledgment. Sensing her awkwardness, I muttered, "Hey Katniss."

"They brought my stylists here. Practically abused them," she muttered to herself.

"Hello?"

She snapped her head up. "Hello Thalia. You do understand why I'm here, right?"

"Yes."

"I am here to question you. Answer truthfully; if you do not, that could mean harsh punishment for you. I will record your answers."

I rolled my eyes. How could they tell if I was lying or not? "Get on with it."

She scowled.

"Alright."

**000**

"Thalia," called Annabeth. She was sorrounded by darkness. The tall trees loomed over her, black against the night sky. A chilly wind was blowing ominously, giving her goosebumps. She could hear things rustling in the bushes. Once in a while, she could hear a monster roar.

"Thalia," she tried again. She flicked her the flashlight in her hands left and right.

"Annabeth! Found anything yet," came her boyfriend's voice.

"No," she sighed.

They had been searching for hours. "They" meaning the hunters and campers. Thalia, their friend, had gone missing without a single trace.

Annabeth groaned, her blond hair flopping in front of her gray eyes. Percy appeared out of the shadows, his green eyes sad. "Nothing," he reported.

Where was she?

**000**

It was a busy night in the capitol. Bizarre citizens skipped past each other. Banners of an older man hung everywhere. Odd multicolored buildings were shining with light. The air had an ominous feel to it. The atmosphere seemed to be thick with fear and anticipation. In the middle of this city, there was a manhole leading (supposedly) to the sewers. But, little did they know, it contained something incredibly powerful.

If you listened closely, you could hear the hum of many voices.

"APOLLO! GET YOUR KNEE OUT OF MY BUTT!"

"Geez, little sis. Calm down. I can't see a thing it's so dark in here. I can't even see my own hands much where my knees are! And remember, yesterday you had your elbow in my-"

"Shut up you two! If you don't I will forcefully shove cereal down your throats," Demeter threatened.

"She will you know," Hermes added, " She did it to me three days ago. Of course it went down my pants. It's dark in here."

"You can't see? I can," claimed Hades.

"You're the god of the underworld Hades. Of course you can. The rest of us can't," pointed out Hephaestus.

"I can't believe we've been here for over one hundred years. I wonder what the minor gods cage is like," mused Ares.

"It's so dark! I can't see my lovely pink nails! What will I do if one of them is chipped," squealed Aphrodite childishly.

"Get a life," sighed Artemis.

"Quit yelling! You're making my alcohol withdrawal worse," Dionysus yelled.

"I haven't seen water for so long. My mouth is dry! How can you land lovers take this," asked Poseidon.

"Because we have lives outside of talking to clown fish," hissed Hera.

"Silence," yelled Zeus. Everyone fell silent. "Quit arguing! We should get out of here soon! The rebels in District thirteen are planning to attack. We should be out of here soon. Besides, Hecate agreed to use the last of her powers to transport a demigod here. With their help, the rebels may be here faster."

"They better get here soon."

_The next chapter will mainly be Katniss and Thalia interaction. _

_Also, I would be elated if you included your thoughts on my OC(s) in your reviews. I promise neither of them are stues, and they won't be of much importance. Want to see more of them? Want to see less of them? Please state your opinion. _


	7. Myths and Monsters

_Sorry for the wait! I have lacked inspiration! Well, after listening to some of the soundtrack I got some. Hope this is good! By the way, I have never had bad burns before, so let's say they're treating her with the medicine Haymitch sent Katniss in the arena. _

_I can't wait til Haymitch and Thalia meet. Oh, the chaos that will ensue. :)_

_I don't own PJO or the Hunger Games. _

_Warning: short and random chapter is short and random. _

_Katniss_

Thalia was picking at the waistline of her silver camouflage pants. I notice that her burns had almost fully healed, in only a matter of days. Her expression is bored; emotion is absent. Yet, I notice a tiny flicker of determination in her memorable eyes.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Shoot," she commanded, glancing at me, slightly impatient with me.

I know this expression. I know this face. But from where, exactly?

"Who are you?" I hear my voice, not entirely aware of what I was saying. It must have sounded out of my mouth, because Thalia starts. "I already told you that," she says. "I am Thalia, daughter of Zeus."

"Is your father somewhere in Panem?" She says her father's name as if he was important; as if everyone should know this name. "I don't know," she answers miserably. "He's usually on Olympus."

I think about it, but I cannot recall a place such as this. Panem was only the districts and the capitol. There were no other destinations.

"Where are you from?"

"I don't live in a particular place. I move around the country with the hunters." Why weren't they with her now? I ask her this, and she scowls. "How am I suppose to know?" I ask, "Are you and your group from any of the districts?"

"No! I woke up here! I woke up in a world that I don't recognize! A few days ago, it was 2012, dammit!"

What did she mean? 2012? It was not 2012!

She sits back, and stares at me. "Well, you already think I am crazy. What more damage can I possibly do?" she asks herself. She folds her hands together. "Have you ever heard of the Greek gods?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

"They were the subjects of myths. Legends. But when I was younger, I found out these myths were one hundred percent true. I am the daughter of the king of the gods. I am half human, and half god."

By this time, I have already come to the conclusion that she is insane. How did she delude herself into believing these lies?

"There are many gods, with many powers. I joined a group of girl hunters lead by the goddess Artemis. You could gain immortality; all you had to do was give up the possibility of having a romance life." I once again notice the silver glow around her. It seems to be faded somehow. I argue with myself for a moment. It must be a mutation. Did the capitol conduct experiments on her? Is that why she was like this?

"I was visiting some fellow demigods at Camp Half-Blood. We were playing a game. I was running, then I tripped and fell onto the ground. But I wasn't there anymore. I was in your district." She seems to be swallowed in this unusual memory. Her eyes glared at the wall, staring at nothing.

I stand and back away from her, eyes wide and disbelieving. Thalia suddenly gasps, as if remembering something. "Wait, I can prove it!" She fishes in her pocket, and brings out a dented and ripped piece of hard paper. I take it from her hands and inspect it.

A boy and girl stand side by side. The boy is smiling. His dark hair stood out against his skin. I could easily see that his eyes are a bright green. He is a few inches taller than the girl who had her arm around him. Her hair was much lighter, a golden color. Her eyes are much darker, a stormy gray, similar to my own. They are both wearing orange shirts that read in bold letters, "Camp Half-Blood."

I gasp inwardly. Were her claims real? Was this proof?

"I-I'll be back," I mutter, and I run out of the room.

**000**

I reach the room I was looking for. I knock on the door vigorously. A woman with chestnut hair opens it. Her features are sharp and pointed. I know this woman as Minerva Johnson.

She is widely known for holding onto items that were passed down generations by her ancestors. Items that survived the horrible transformation of North America to Panem. She treasures them beyond all else. I have heard that her family before her was the same way. She is strange to most of us. We would have traded the old items for food and other essential needs, but not Minerva. _My ancestors passed these down to future generations of the Johnsons so we can remember what it was like before the carnage and despair. They are to be treasured. _

I know very well that no one touches these things. Not even her. They are stored somewhere safe. But I have to try.

"Minerva, I have to see the items."

She scowls. "Please? It's very important."

"No! They are very fragile. Children would ruin them."

"You have to let me see them! I think our victory depends on it." A spin out a tiny white lie. Minerva balks, hearing the lie, and reluctantly lets me inside. She leads me to a safe, and opens it.

I crouch down to inspect the five items. One is something that looks like a television remote. Another is a necklace of graceful pearls. Another is a small shirt (perhaps for a child) that is riddled with holes and tears. The fourth is a small device in the shape of a box. A square black screen is at the top of the front of the device, and under it is a circle with buttons. There is an apple on the back.

The fifth is what I am looking for.

The book is fragile. When I pick it up, I can tell the binding is close to breaking. The sheets are yellowed. It is titled _Myths and Monsters_.

I know of this one because this is the only one she ever let people see.

I sit and read quickly.

It subjects a dysfunctional family of gods on a mountain named Olympus in a place called "Greece". They have a nasty habit of procreating with mortals. When the children are born, they are dubbed 'demigods'. Most of them live challenging lives, wraught with horryfing monsters (like ones called the hydra and the minotaur) and trials. There are stories of these demigods. One boy named Perseus, a son of Zeus, chops of the head of the gorgon Medusa and saves his mother. Another is about Theseus, who defeats the minotaur.

There are also stories of the gods themselves.

One is about how the scheming god of the underworld abducts an innocent goddess and makes her his bride. She visits the world during the warmer time of the year, and leaves for the underworld for the colder part, leaving her mother lonely and sad. This created the seasons. Another is about how a man hating goddess Artemis chnges a peeping man into a stag and sets his own dogs upon him. Then there is the one where the king, Zeus, defeats his father and saves his siblings.

Are these the 'Greek gods' of which Thalia speaks? Was she a demigod?

I mutter a thanks to Minerva and leave the room. It has been half an hour, so I give up on going back and try to find Gale to tell him of my situation.

When I find him, he is with Thalia.

They are laughing hysterically. He is sitting in my previous seat. I watch them as they continue conversing. They seem to be getting along well. My heart twitches at this.

"Oh, hey Catnip! Sorry, Sparky and I were just talking. I'll let you get back to the interrogation."

Oh, so she gets a nickname too? He's only known her for a few days!

Gale leaves. I glare at Thalia, and she defends herself, seeming more at ease now. "Hey! It's not my fault you ran off for a freaking hour! He found me, so we decided to chat." I stare at her. Was this the face of a half god?

A man opens the door. "Coin is giving an announcement. She wants all of District 13 there."

Thalia and I leave for the announcement.

_There are lizards coming into my house. _

_I want to keep the lizards. _

_I can't keep the lizards. _

_I'M SAD. _

_This chapter sucks, I know. Katniss runs off to read an old mythology book? Grrr. I'm so sorry for the randomness, but it was the only thing I could think off. And, I'm thinking this is only 200 or 300 years into the future, so that's why the items survived for so long. And yes, the fourth item is an Ipod. _

_For MysticWishes: I actually don't have one; I'm just a guest. I rarely go on, because I live in fear the entire time I do. Why? I actually almost got a virus off of it, TWICE! And I DID get a virus on my OLD computer WHILE I was on deviantart. So, I don't go on as much. Tell me, am I the only one who gets virus threats from that website? It's so much fun, it's really a shame. _

_Reviews are loved! Thank you everyone! _


	8. Immunity

_Hey, sorry I've been MIA for awhile. School has started, and since work load will gradually increase, these periods of time where I don't update will become common. Be prepared. _

_And I've drawn a cover to this story, which I will upload and make it the image that goes along with this. But it's only a substitute until I draw something better. _

_I don't own HG or PJO. This is for entertainment purposes only. _

_Katniss_

Walking alongside Thalia, we are directed to the Collective, a colossal room that easily holds the thousands who show up. Thalia lightly complains about the crowd. You can tell it was built for a larger gathering, and perhaps it held one during the pox epidemic (which you could clearly see the evidence from the pox scars that adorn some of the peoples' bodies).

Prim scoots beside me, huffing slightly. She glances at Thalia. "Who are you?" she shamelessly chides. "I'm an alien here to gorge on your soft flesh," Thalia says. Prim raises an eyebrow, not understanding. Thalia shakes her head. "Forget it."

I see my mother lead in a group of mobile patients, still wearing their hospital gowns. Finnick stands among them, looking dazed but gorgeous. He is gripping a short rope in his hands, automatically twisting small knots and unraveling them. I cross to him and say quietly, "Hey Finnick." He doesn't respond, so I nudge him to get his attention. "Finnick! How are you doing?"

"Katniss," he says, relieved to see a familiar face. "Why are we meeting here?"

"I told Coin I'd be her Mockingjay. But I made her promise to give the other tributes immunity if the rebels won. In public, so there are plenty of witnesses."

"Oh. Good. Because I worry about that with Annie. That she'll say something that could be constructed as traitorous without knowing it," he says.

Thalia (who came with me) throws a pointed glance at me.

Annie. Uh-oh.

In my sudden silence, Thalia speaks up, saving the day. "Don't worry, Everdeen took care of it," she bluffs. She engages in polite conversation with him, and purposely nods to the podium where Coin is when he is distracted.

"I need you to add Annie Cresta to the immunity list," I say when I reach Coin.

"Who's that?" she asks, frowning.

"She's Finnick Odair's-" What? I didn't know exactly what to call her. "She Finnick's friend. From District four. Another victor. She was arrested and taken to the Capitol when the arena blew up."

"Oh, the mad girl. That's really not necessary. We don't make a habit of punishing anyone that frail."

I think of the scene I walked in on this morning. Coin and I might have different definitions of frailty.

"No? Then it shouldn't be a problem to add Annie...and Thalia."

The president snaps up and glares at me. "Solider Everdeen, that girl could be-"

"A Capitol spy, I know. But it doesn't seem like it to me."

Coin groans and mumbles something I am not going to repeat. "All right. Do you want to be up here with me for the announcement?" I shake my head. "I didn't think so. Better hurry and lose yourself in the crowd. I'm about to begin." I make my way back to Finnick and Thalia.

Words are another thing not wasted in thirteen. Coin calls the audience to attention and tells them I have consented to be the Mockingjay, provides these beings-Peeta, Johanna, Enobaria, Annie, and Thalia- are granted full pardon for any damage they do to the rebel cause. Coin glares at Thalia during this statement, and she shrinks a little. I hear the dissent in the crowd. Some are angry about the immunity given to what could be possible enemies.

The president continues in her brisk fashion, but the words are news to me. "But in return for this unprecedented requests, Solider Everdeen has promised to devote herself to our cause, and to monitor the control of Thalia, who is now officially apart of District Thirteen. It follows that any deviance from her mission, in either motive or deed, will be viewed as a break to the agreement. The immunity would be terminated, and the fate of the victors and Thalia would be determined by the laws of the district. As would her own. Thank you."

In other words: If I or Thalia step out of line, we're all dead.

_Thalia_

I walk with Everdeen back to my room. Since she made Coin grant me immunity, and Coin announced me as a citizen, the questioning is no longer mandatory.

_To monitor the control of Thalia, who is now officially apart of District Thirteen. _

But I wouldn't let that delude me. I was still very much a prisoner. They were going to force me to fight for their cause. They were making Everdeen monitor my actions. If I did one thing that could be interpreted as traitorous, they'd shoot me down.

Since Everdeen will be monitoring me, this means I have to follow her around so she can examine my actions. So this practically makes me Everdeen's pet now. Her's to control.

No. _Coin's to control. _

We halted in front of my door. I gazed at her. She would be examining me from now on. I couldn't mess this up. My life depended on it this time.

"I'll see you at dinner," I say, and slip inside.

_Review please. Next one will be up soon. I want a friendship to grow between Thalia and Katniss, but it's difficult because of the events of Mockingjay (no chill out moments) and of their personalities (especially Katniss's) so if anyone has any ideas, let me know. Thank you! _

_P.S. What do you think of the drawing? You know, the image that I drew for the story. Love it? Want something better? I personally think Katniss's face is messed up, but remember, it's a substitue until I draw something better. R&R! _


	9. A tense breakfast and a crazy old dude

_Fanfiction to-do: Do me! Do me!_

_Youtube: Don't listen to that tramp. _

_Hey, sorry I disappeared from the face of the internet for a while. I lost my Mockingjay copy, and I got off track. I don't own PJO or HG. _

_Thalia_

Coin's invidious faces flashs behind by eyelids. She had plainly elucidated what she wanted, which was me dead. I knew she desired to slaughter me; I could see it in the suspicion and repulsion on her face when she glanced at me. She viewed me as a dangerous threat.

Alana and Ralston sit near my bedside. Alana was showing her affable personality and chattering away, but the cheerful words she spoke slipped in one ear and out the other. Ralston was staring off into space; obviously not paying attention to his surroundings.

When we are summoned for supper, I rise and leave the two. I slip in next to Hawthorne, whom I find amusing. He has proven to be a friendly person, and I can tell he would fit right in amongst the people of my time. Besides, he's a lot of fun to mess with.

I hear gasps of surprise (and perhaps of horror) as Katniss scoots inside the room. I looked around, momentarily confunded, but when I see them, I understand.

Three people flitted nervously around her like a group of vivid parrots. One of them sported orange corkscrews, while the other two proudly showed off three dimensional tattoos (which I find cool) and odd colored skin.

With their eyes downcast, they followed Katniss into the line as if they were baby ducklings following Momma duck. When they arrive, Gale's Mother whispers to the anxious trio, "Don't worry. Tastes better than it looks."

Katniss whispers in my ear once she sat down, "Octavia is the one with the green skin, Flavius is the one with the orange locks, and Venia is the-"

"The one with the awesome tattoos," I finish for her. She rolls her eyes, and says yes.

Posy, his little sister, scoots over and touches the green woman with a small tentative finger. "You're Green. Are you sick?"

"It's a fashion thing Posy. Like wearing lipstick," Katniss tells her with a nervous glance at the green woman.

_Fashion thing? _I wonder. Well, the things girls wore back home were utterly absurd also. The girls at home thoroughly enjoyed wearing mini skirts that rode up their thighs and heels that looked like medieval torture devices. I truly shouldn't be surprised at what fashion has become.

"It's meant to be pretty," sniffles Octavia. Her eyes began to water and her lips thinned in a infantile way, as if she was about to begin bawling.

Posy considers this and says matter-of-factly, "I think you'd be pretty in any color."

Octavia smiles. "Thank you."

"If you really want to impress Posy, you'll have to dye yourself bright pink. That's her favorite color," Hawthorne says.

He turns to me with a teasing twinkle in his eye. "How about you, Sparky? You should dye yourself pitch black. You seem to be fond of the color." I smack the older boy on the shoulder. Posy giggles, and Venia flashes a smile.

Hawthorne turns and nods at Flavius's bowl. "I wouldn't let that get cold. It doesn't improve the consistency."

Hawthorne, who is usually silent, surprisingly helps roll the conversation along. I surprise myself and make small talk with Hazelle and Everdeen.

Katniss scowls at my tendency to call her by her last name, so I decide to get on her better side.

"How about I call you Kat?" I ask.

"No," she says, scowling in her exacting way.

"Too late. I've already decided," I say with a devilish grin. Katniss groans.

I notice slight tension between Katniss and Gale. Did something happen? They silently glare at each other while I sit beside them awkwardly. Should I say something? Or would that just make it worse?

My saving grace comes in the form of a senile old man rushing past us gleefully singing, "Zebras! Cookies! Whee! Whee!" He is followed by a dark-skinned boy who looks severely irritated, and this looks of irritation became more prominent when the old man knocks a strange and ancient-looking curved striped stick thing over his head.

Hawthorne chuckles at this peculiar scene. Then we rise and exit, heading to a elevator that will bring us to a lower part of District 13 called the Special Defense level. Hawthorne glances at Katniss. "You're still angry," he states.

"And you're still not sorry," she replies irritably.

"I still stand by what I said Do you want me to lie about it?" he replies.

"No, I want you to rethink it and come up with the right opinion," she says. I crack up at this, breaking the severe atmosphere, and Hawthorne wisely joins in, while Katniss tenaciously crosses her arms and glares at the wall.

The elevator door opens, and we step on to the Special Defense level.

_If you caught the Kane Chronicles reference, I love you. _

_You know, I'm going to have to fit in a Harry Potter reference somewhere. And maybe more references to other things. Because I love it when people make references to things in their fan fictions. And do forgive me for being gone so long. Also, sorry about the big vocab in this chapter. I'm trying to expand my vocabulary while studying for English. Review, please! _


	10. Katniss' new bow and Thalia's confusion

_Hey, guys, sorry about last chapter. I kept switching from present tense to past tense. The books are written differently, and I'm following Mockingjay, so it gets confusing. I don't own either stories. Most dialouge in this chapter belongs to Suzanne Collins. _

_Katniss_

The Special Defense level is situated almost as far down as the dungeons where we found the prep team. It's a beehive of rooms full of compartments, labs, research equipment, and testing ranges. When we ask for Beetee, we're directed through the maze until we reach an enormous plate-glass window. Inside is the first beautiful thing I've witnessed in District 13 compound: a replication of a meadow, filled with real trees and flowering plants, and alive with hummingbirds. Beetee sits motionless in a wheelchair at the center of the room, observing a spring-green bird hover in midair as it sips nectar from a large orange blossom. He catches sight of us, and registers a friendly wave in our direction. We take that as an invite and slip inside.

Beetee stares at Thalia for a moment, an expression of bewilderment dominant on his features. Suddenly, his face comes to life with sudden realization and he beckons her forward as well.

The air is frigid and breathable, not humid and muggy as I'd suspected. The hummingbirds' flap their wings at nearly the speed of light, and the sound is audible. I have to wonder what sort of fluke allowed such a pleasing place to be built here in the midst of a miserable District 13.

Beetee still has the pallor of someone in convalescence, but behind those ill-fitting glasses, his eyes are alight with excitement. "Aren't they magnificent? Thirteen has been studying their aerodynamics for years. Forward and backward flight, and speeds up to sixty miles an hour! If only I could build you wings like these, Katniss!" he exclaims, high with wonder.

"Doubt I could manage them, Beetee," I laugh.

"Wait a moment...you're fascinated with hummingbirds? Those are so common! I see them all the time," Thalia comments. Beetee's eyes widen. "You must live in a very fine place then," he replies, eyes filled with envy.

I observe the birds around us for a moment, wonder plain on my features. "Here one second, gone the next. Can you bring down a hummingbird with an arrow?" Beetee suddenly asks me.

"I've never tried. Not much meat on them," I reply disdainfully.

"No. And you're not one to slaughter for sport," he says. "I bet they'd be difficult to shoot, though." Thalia purses her lips and nods, gazing at one nearby on a bright sky blue blossom.

"You could snare them perhaps," Gale says. His face is distant, and I can easily tell he's off in another realm, one where he is snaring hummingbirds. "Take a net with a very fine mesh. Enclose an area and leave a mouth of a couple square feet. Bait the inside with nectar flowers. While they're feeding, snap the mouth shut. They'd soar away from the noise but only encounter the far side of the net."

"Would that work?" Thalia asks. "I've seen similar techniques used on chimeras. Except the bait was-," she cut off, her face twisting in trauma. I ask her what a chimera is. "Never mind," she replies.

"I don't know. Just an idea", Gale says. "There is a slight chance they could outsmart it." He twists to stare at Thalia, and their eyes connect. I see Gale cocking his head in consideration at the prospect of Thalia being an experienced hunter. He grins. She grins. My heart feels like it is being cruelly stripped into little ribbons.

"They might," Beetee interrupts. "But you're playing on their natural instincts to flee danger. Thinking like your prey...that's where you find their vulnerabilities." I recall something I didn't desire to think about. A younger Beetee electrocuting a pack of kids who were hunting him. Suddenly, I wish to depart from the hummingbird room before someone starts implementing a plan to prepare a snare. "Plutarch said you had something for me."

He blinks. "Right. I do. Your new bow." He twists and wheels out of the room while we follow. "I am able to walk a litlle now. It's just that I tire so quickly, and when I do, I become inept at moving. It's much easier for me to get around in this way. How's Finnick doing?" He prattles on as we move through the twists and turns of the maze-like level.

"He's...having concentration problems," I say. I didn't want to elucidate that he had a mental breakdown.

"You mean he is ADD?" Thalia asks.

"What is that?" Gale asks. Thalia groans.

"Concentration problems, eh?" He smiles grimly. "If you knew what Finnick's been through the lasyt few years, you'd know that is is extremely remarkable that he is still with us at all. Inform him that I've been crafting a new trident for him, though, will you? Something to divert his attention for a while."

Distraction seems to be the last thing Finnick needs, but I promise to pass on the message. Four soilders guard the entrance to the hall marked SPECIAL WEAPONRY. They check the schedules on our arms. We also are imposed to endure fingerprints, retinal, DNA scans, and special metal detectors. They seize Thalia for a moment; her horrified face clearly explains this. Beetee hans them a daint piece of paper he pulls from his jacket pocket, and they release her. "Jerks," she mumbles.

I find the whole thing bizarre because I can't imagine someone who was raised in the district to be a threat the government would have to guard against. Have these precautions been put in place because other recent influx of immigrants. Or maybe perhaps the sudden arrival of someone beyond our two districts? One that could be posed as a great threat?

At the door of the armory, we encounter a second round of identification checks-as if my DNA might have changed in the time it took to walk twenty yards down the hallway-then we are finally permitted to enter the weapons collection. Beetee flicks his head back at the guards, an idicaton for Thalia. "You will have to go through rounds like this later. They want you charted with the citizens now. You will be in the system from then on," he warns.

I have to admit the arsenal takes the very breath from my lungs. Row upon row of firearms, launchers, explosives, armored vehicles. "Of course the Airborne Division is housed separately," Beetee tells us.

We advance upon a wall of highly deadly archery weapons.

"Gale, maybe you'd like to try out a few of those," Beetee says.

"Seriously?" he asks.

"You'll be issued a gun eventually for battle, of course. But if you appear as part of Katniss's team in the propos, one of these would appear a tad bit showier. I thought you might find one that suits you," he explains.

As Gale looks, Beetee wheels down to the end of the row of bows. "Well, come on now," he yells to Thalia. She follows him, and I am follow suit, unsure if they want me to come along.

"Do you know who I am?" Thalia asks.

"The prisoner that recently became a citizen," he replies. "Birds sing around here, Miss Thalia."

He reaches the end and heaves a small silver bow off the rack. I recognize it from the time I discovered Thalia, burned and bruised on my front lawn. She closes her hands around the bow, and plucks the string a few times. It snaps back immediately. She does this a couple of times, and throws it ungracefully over her shoulder.

"I would also return the arrows to your possession, but they disposed of them. Don't tell anyone I gave that back to you. I'd be punished. Hide it well," he says with a twinkle in his eye. She grins deviously at him.

Beetee leaves through a small door, then wheels back with a tall black rectangular case awkwardly positioned between his footrest and his shoulder. He comes to a halt and tilts it towards me. "For you."

I set the case flat and undo the latches on one side. The top opens on silent hinges. Inside the case, on a bed of crushed maroon velvet, lies a stunning dark bow. I lift it carefully to admire the exquisite balance, the elegant design, and the curve of the limbs that somehow suggest a bird taking flight.

"Awesome," whispers Thalia in awe.

There's something else. I have to hold it very still to make sure this is not a figment of my imagination. No, the bow is alive in my hands. I press it against my cheek and feel the slight hum travel through the bones in my face. "What's it doing?"

"Saying hello," explains Beetee. "It heard your voice."

"It recognizes my voice?"

"_Only _your voice. You see, they wanted me to design a bow based purely on looks. As apart of your costume, you know? But I kept reflecting on an idea of my own. _What a waste. _I mean, what if you need it? As more than a fashion accessory? So I left the outside simple, and left the rest to my imagination. Best explained in practice though. Want to try those out?"

"Wait, wait, wait." Thalia holds up a hand. "So you've got like a million weapons here, right? Some of these things could blow a dude to bits! _And you give her a bow?" _

_Thanks for reading! Tune in later for the next chapter! R&R! _


	11. Katniss' bad acting

_Just bought TMOA. I don't know why, but I am finding Annabeth's POV a little annoying. Don't know why. I don't own HG or PJO. Yesterday, I realized how weird of a crossover this is (two series with absolutely nothing alike). Hope you enjoy. _

_Katniss P.O.V. _

"_People of Panem, we fight, we dare, and we end our hunger for justice!"_

There's dead silence on the set. It goes on. And on.

Finally, the intercom crackles and Haymitch's acerbic laughter fills the studio. He contains himself just long enough to say, "And that, my friends, is how a revolution dies."

**000**

The shock of hearing Haymitch's boisterous voice yesterday, of learning that he was not only functional but had some measure of control over my life again, enraged me. I had angrily stomped out of the studio and refused to acknowledge his comments from the booth today. Even so, I was very well aware he was right about my performance.

It took the whole of this morning for him to convince the others of my limitations. I can't stand in a television studio wearing a costume and makeup, enveloped in a cloud of artificial smoke. That would not push Panem towards rebellion.

We gather around an enormous table in Command. Coin and her people. My old and new prep team. A group from 12 that includes Haymitch and Gale, Leevy and Greasy Sae. At the last minute, Finnick wheels Beetee in, and Thalia follows, looking around swiftly, her mouth set in a menacing line.

I suppose Coin has rallied this strange assortment of people to witness my failure.

But when Haymitch welcomes everyone, I realize they have come at his request.

"Who in Hades is that guy?" Thalia asks me as she lowers herself into the seat next to me.

"Haymitch Abernathy. Another victor," I answer with as much venom in my voice I can muster.

"He looks like a hobo. An alcoholic one," she observes. Haymitch twitches and stares at her; he obviously heard her observation.

"Close enough," he mutters. "Are you the one they picked up in 12?" She nods.

I avoid looking directly at him, but I catch his reflection. He appears slightly yellow and has lost a lot of crucial weight giving him a shruken appearance. For a second, I fear that he is dying. But then I remind myself that I don't care.

Haymith begins by showing the footage we just shot. Both my voice and body have a jerky, disjointed quality, like a puppet being manipulated by unseen forces.

The footage shuts off. "That was the worst acting I've ever witnessed. And that includes _Twilght_," Thalia says, her face twisted as if she had smelled an unpleasant scent.

"All right. Would anyone like to debate that this is of use to us winning the war?" No one does. "  
That saves time. So, let's all be silent for a minute. I want everyone to think of one incident where Katniss Everdeen genuinely moved you. Not when you were envious of her hairstyle, or her flaming dress, or when she shot a halfway decent arrow. Not where Peeta was making you like her. I wish to hear one moment where _she _made you feel something real."

"When she volunteered to take Prim's place at the reaping. Because I'm sure she thought she was going to die."

He writes this down on a notepad.

"When she sang that song. When the little girl died." The speaker is Boggs, who I think of as a muscular robot that does Coin's bidding. Somewhere in my head an image surfaces of Boggs with a little boy perched on his hip. Maybe he isn't a robot after all.

"Who didn't get choked up on that, right?"

"I bawled when she drugged Peeta so she could go get him medicine and when she kissed him good-bye!" bursts Octavia.

"Oh, yeah. Drugs Peeta to save his life. Very nice."

Thalia gives me a weird look. A look that says, _You drugged him? How loco are you, woman? _

I flinch when I realize I know Thalia's personality too well.

The moments come in thick and fast and in no particular order. When I took on Rue as an ally. Extended my hand to Chaff on interview night. Tried to carry Mags. And again and again when I held out those berries that meant different things to different people. Love for Peeta. Refusal to give in under impossible odds. Defiance of the Capitol's inhumanity.

"When she climbed Everest!" blurts out Thalia. We all stare at her, confunded. "Sorry. I felt left out," she mumbles.

Haymitch hold up the notepad. "So, the question is, what do all of these things have in common?"

"They were Katniss's actions," Gale says. "No one told her what to say or do."

"Unscripted, yes!" exclaims Beetee. He pats my hand. "So we should just leave you alone, right?"

People laugh. I even grin a little.

"Well, that's all very nice, but not very helpful," says Fulvia peevishly. "Unfortunately, her opportunities for being wonderful are rather limited her in Thirteen. So unless you're suggesting we toss her into combat-"

"That's _exactly _what I'm suggesting," says Haymitch. "Put her out in the field and just keep the cameras rolling."

"A homicidal alcoholic hobo," Thalia adds to her previous statement.

"But people still think she's pregnant," Gale points out.

"We'll spread the word that she lost the baby from the electric shock in the arena. Very sad. Very unfortunate," Plutarch says.

The idea of sending me into combat is controversial. But Haymitch has a pretty tight case. If I preform well only in real-life circumstances , then into them I should go.

"Every time we coach her or give her lines, the best we can hope for is okay. It has to come from her. That's what people are strongly responding to."

"Even if we're careful, we can't guarantee her safety. She'll be a target for every-"

"I want to go," I break in. "I'm no help to the rebels here"

"And if you're killed?" asks Coin.

"Make sure you get some footage. You can use that, anyway," I reply.

"Fine. But let's take it one step at a time. Find the least dangerous situation that can evoke spontaneity in you. Take her into Eight this afternoon. There was heavy bombing this morning, but the raid seems to have run its course. I want her armed with a squad of bodyguards. Camera crew on ground. Haymitch, you'll be airborne and in constant contact with her. Let's see what happens there. Does anyone have any other comments?"

"Wash her face. She's still a girl and you made her look thirty-five. Feels wrong. Like something the Capitol would do."

Coin suddenly gets a glint her eye. "One more thing, I want Thalia to attend with Katniss." She grins menacingly.

Thalia drops her head on the table. "I am going to die," she mumbles to the table.

And I know that's exactly what Coin wants.

_Hey, I'm considering getting a Fictionpress and writing down an original fiction idea I have. Should I? I hope you enjoyed this. R&R! _


	12. Welcome to District 13: pants optional

_Welcome back! I don't own HG or PJO. And to Rina C: There will be a scene with Thalia using her powers soon. And about her not being able to get hurt because of her immortality, Phoebe was infected with centaur's blood by the Stoll brothers in the third PJO novel, and she was a hunter. Therefore, hunters can be hurt. And she would be hesitant to give up control of herself, I realize, and I will make her do little acts of rebellion as he story progresses. Sorry for the short length. Hope you enjoy~ _

_Thalia P.O.V. _

As Coin adjourns the meeting, Haymitch requests if he can speak privately with Katniss. Katniss mutters something under her breath that I cannot make out. The others exit; however Hawthorne and I linger nervously by Katniss. He gives me a stare of remorse. I nod back at him.

"What are you worried about?" Haymitch asks Gale. "I'm the one who needs a bodyguard." He gives a sarcastic look at Katniss, not without a tentative hint of fear. Gale leaves, and I follow him out obediently.

"Coin wants you dead," Gale says to me once we leave the room. He looks seething. "Way to state the obvious," I reply snippily.

I remark his harsh look. "Why so glum, Hawthorne? Me dead is one less nuisance in your life," I say.

I stare into his gray eyes, eyes that I now identify with friendship. His eyes sweep over my face. He stutters out, "It's just that you're my only other friend besides Catnip. And with the way she's been acting lately..." he trails off, looking solemn. My head whirls. Me, his friend?

"Hawthorne," I start to say, but the door opens and Katniss and Haymitch return.

Gale zooms away, so I follow Katniss to the Remake Room. I watch as Beetee assists in put on Katniss' armor. A helmet of interwoven metal is placed on her head, and a vest is fitted over where her vital organs are located. A small white earpiece that attached to her collar by a wire.

Beetee secures a gas mask on her belt, saying, "If you see anyone dropping for reasons you can't identify, put this mask over your face immediately."

He straps a sheath of arrows over his shoulder that is divided into three cylinder of arrows. "Just remember: Right side, fire. Left side, explosive. Center, regular. You shouldn't have use of them, but better safe than sorry."

He turns to me. "You should require the typical solider armor. I will fetch it."

He leaves the room, and returns a moment later with a helmet that reminds me of the Romans, a plain vest similar to Katniss', and a sheath of arrows. I wish I had though to bring my own; going into battle without my trusty arrows seemed absurd.

I contemplate the feel of the armor. It's too tight around my torso and my head, crushing my skull and organs. I will have to endure it. I fidget uncomfortably as Boggs escorts us to the Airborne Division.

But just as the elevator appears, Finnick appears, clearly agitated. "Katniss, they won't let me go! I told them I'm fine, but they won't even let me ride in the hovercraft!"

I take in his image. His lanky legs show shamelessly under his hospital gown, the unmanageable tangle of bronze hair, the rope tangled in his long tanned fingers, the insane looks in his eyes. I come to the conclusion that this man is severely mentally disturbed.

Katniss smacks her hand on her forehead.

"Oh, I forgot. It's this stupid concussion. I was supposed to tell you to report to Beetee in the Special Weaponry. He's designed a new trident for you."

At the word _trident, _he brightens up. I think momentarily of Poseidon, even though they share nothing in common on the physical appearance department.

"Really? What's it do?"

"I don't know. But if it's anything like my bow and arrows, you're going to adore it. You'll need to train with it though."

"Right! Of course. I guess I better jet down there."

I glance at his legs. The feature of him that I just couldn't rip my eyes away from. "Finnick?" I whisper.

Katniss adds in. "Maybe some pants?"

He glances blearily down at his legs, as if just taking note of his outfite for the first time. Suddenly, he seizes the gown and tears it off of his form, leaving him in his underwear.

My jaw drops to the floor. My eyes widen.

He strikes a ridiculosly proactative pose. "Why? Do you find this distracting?"

Katniss starts laughing. Boggs averts his eyes. I just stare, my lips curled.

"I'm only human, Odair," Katniss says to him.

Scratch the previous statement. That is one _very _disturbed man.

_*passes out blankies and cookies and Nico plushies*_

_Hope you had a Happy Halloween. I went as a zombie/deranged/murderer Little Red Riding Hood. _

_I'm sorry I was gone for so long. I suffer from procrastination. And writer's block. Well, the last book in the Hush Hush saga came out, and I'm reading it now. One of my close friends and I fangirl over this series. I also read Rot & Ruin. BEST ZOMBIE BOOK EVER. Read it, if you get the chance. I really recommend it. Please review! Thanks you guys!_

_Also, one more note: Doctor Who is the most beautiful TV show there is. Why didn't I watch it sooner?_

_R&R_


	13. Katniss and the absence of motorcycles

_Hey guys! I hope you all had a happy Thanksgiving (of course only if you live over here in the US; I'm not sure if its celebrated anywhere else.) Sorry for the wait. I went out of town and forgot to bring my Mockingjay book along. I do not own either plot line or characters. Hope you enjoy. _

"Sorry," Katniss whispers bluntly to Boggs. "Don't be...I thought you handled that well. Better than being forced to arrest him," he replies in an absent-minded tone. I sneak a glance at him. He's probably middle-aged, with close-cropped gray hair and eyes the color of the sea. He appears fine, not too pompous, not too frail. But being in his vicinity is making me agitated. He just seemed so in tune with President I-like-to-kick-kittens Coin.

I sigh and brush my helmet with the palm of my hand. Wait. The thing sticking out of the top had vanished. I tugged it off of my skull and examined it. It was a typical federal-looking helmet. This was not the helmet I had been given.

I sigh and put it back on. Now is not the time for drug-induced hallucinations.

There is a series of loud clicks, and the door moves laterally to the left. "It goes sideways?" I ask after the door didn't burst open. "Yes, there's a whole network of elevator paths under Thirteen. This one lies just above the transport spoke to the fifth airlift platform. It's taking us to the Hangar."

Katniss and I nod. "Thirteen is even larger than I presumed," Katniss states thoughtfully.

"We can't take credit for much of it. We basically inherited this place. It's all we can do to keep it running."

There are more sudden manic clicks. We drop suddenly (I leave my stomach somewhere above our heads) for a few more levels, and the doors open on the Hangar.

"Oh," Katniss whispers abruptly. "Did you inherit this too?"

I look in that direction. "Hot damn," I mutter. Rows upon rows of diverse hovercrafts lapped each other. I stare in awe. "Your time have any motorcycles left?" I ask the duo. Boggs gives me a look of confusion while Katniss just rolls her gray eyes.

"Come on Kat!" I yell excitedly. I clutch her skinny left limb and drag her out onto the floor of hovercrafts. She staggers and curses. I run with her in tow for a few yards (her cursing me out the whole way) when a thought came to me. I turn to the huffing Boggs, who is attempting to keep up with us.

"Oh. My. Gods." A smile stretches to my ears. "Where do you keep the TARDIS?"

Boggs' jaw drops. Katniss looks murderous, but strangely, the harsh stare was not directed at me.

"So you've had all this, and you left the districts defenseless against the Capitol." It was a sardonic statement, not a question. I understand her rage. Boggs hesitates, then launches a counter attack.

"It's not that simple We were in no position to prepare and launch a counterattack until recently. We could barely stay alive; we were constantly struggling for survival! After we'd overthrown the Capitols's people, only a handful of us knew how to pilot. We could've nuked them with missiles, yes. But there's the larger question: If we engage in that type of war, would there be any human life left?"

"That sounds like what Peeta said, after you all called him a traitor," Katniss seethes. I glance back and forth between the two a few times, feeling the tension in the air. This was a showdown.

"Because he called for a cease-fire. You'll notice neither side had launched any nuclear weapons. We're working it out the old-fashioned way. Over here, Solider Everdeen." He leads us back to the elevator and to a small hovercraft.

Everyone inside is dressed in 13's dark gray military jumpsuits, and are surrounded with a television crew and intricate equipment. Haymitch is pulling unhappily at his collar. I look at him and all I can see is Mr. D.

Fulvia is inspecting Katniss' face. "All that work, down the drain. I'm not blaming you Katniss. It's just that very few people are born with camera-ready faces. Like him," she gestures to Gale, who is conversing with Plutarch. "Isn't he handsome?"

She spins him toward us. He does look kind off...NO. BAD THOUGHTS. BAD THOUGHTS.

Katniss opens her mouth, and I suspect her to give a witty comeback.

Boggs' says brusquely, "Well, don't expect us to be too impressed. We just saw Finnick Odair himself in his underwear."

What is this guy-a freaking Calvin & Klein model?

There is a warning of the upcoming takeoff. Katniss straps herself into a seat besides Gale. I sit beside her. We glide thorough flashing tunnels and glide onto a platform. We are lifted into the air by an elevator type contraption and we come into a large field surrounded by woods. I get the urge to leap out and rush into the familiar safety of the trees.

We rise and are enveloped in clouds. I twist my mouth into a sneer of contempt for these people. No one throws Thalia Grace into a war she had no clue about until a few days ago. Not even Coin.

Plutarch says every district is currently at war with the Capitol, except two, which had always had a favored relationship with the Battle Royale copycats of the Capitol despite the whole Hunger Games situation. They had always received more food and more sutiable living conditions.

After the dark days and the supposed destruction of Thirteen, Two had become the Capitols's new center of defense, although it's publicly presented as the home of the nation's stone quarries, in the same way Thirteen was more well known for graphite mining. Two does not just supply weapons, it also supplies Peacekeepers, the twisted police for the districts. It strongly reminds me of Hitler's rule.

"You mean...some of the Peacekeepers are born in Two? I thought they were all from the Capitol," Katniss says.

"That's what you're supposed to think. And some do come from the Capitol. But its population could never sustain a force that size Then there's the problem of recruiting Capitol-raised children for a dull life of deprivation in the districts. A twenty-year commitment to the Peacekeepers, no marriage, no children allowed. Some buy into it for the honor of the thing, others take it on as an alternative to punishment. For instance, join the Peacekeepers and your debts are forgiven. Many people are swamped in debt to the Capitol, but not all of them are fit for military duty. So District Two is where we turn to for additional troops. It's a way for their people to escape poverty and a life in the quarries. They're raised with a warrior mind-set. You've seen how eager some of those brutal children were to volunteer for the games."

"But all the other districts are on our side?" she asks.

"Yes. Our goal is to take over the districts one by one, ending with district Two, thus cutting off the Capitol's supply chain. Then, once it's weakened, we invade the Capitol itself," says Plutarch. "That will be a whole other type of a challenge. But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

I think of the twelve tasks of Hercules. "If we win, who would be in charge of the government," Gale questions.

"Everyone. We're going to form a republic where the people of each district and the Capitol can elect their own representatives to be their voice in a centralized government."

_Oh say can you see~_, I sing silently to myself.

"Don't look so suspicious. It worked before."

"In books."

"In _history _books. If our ancestors can do it, we can do it too."

Well, looking at the state we left them in, with the wars and broken planet and all, we don't have much to brag about. Clearly we didn't care much about them. But the government seems like an improvement.

"And if we lose?" Katniss asks.

"If we lose." Plutarch purses his lips. "Then I would expect next year's Hunger Games to be quite the unforgettable show. Oh, that reminds me." He takes a vial from his vest, and shakes some bright violet pills into Katniss' hand.

"We named them _nightlock _in your honor, Katniss. The rebels can't afford any of us being captured now. But I promise, it will be completely painless."

Katniss slips the pills into a pocket on her shoulder. Gale and I do the same. But the circumstances confund me. I don't understand what these pills are for. I turn to ask Plutarch...

...when suddenly my eyes feel like the weight of the world. They flutter closed and I slip into blackness.

When I force them open, I am standing amongst a crowd of children.

_HOPE YOU LIKED. And for those of you asking, I started on the ninth doctor. PLEASE PLEASE PLESE REVIEW. You shall receive a virtual glomp. Also a virtual cookie with a icing mockingjay on it. R&R! Til next time~ _


	14. Chapter 14 Sneak Peek

_Hey, remember what I said about updating Sunday? Guess what. I lied. It was my mothers birthday and naturally we went out. This is only a preview. I'm sorry. This won't be finished until later. I just didn't want to keep you guys in the dark for longer—although the following passages may bring up new questions. I don't own either plot line. Hope you enjoy. _

_This is just a preview of the upcoming chapter—this chapter is not yet completed and will not be until Wednesday. _

_Thalia P.O.V. _

Oh, great. Some god decided play time was over and was now whisking me off to Hogwarts, which would actually be a step up from the situation I was in now.

I blinked open my eyes. Dizziness fogged my mind and I wobbled dangerously on my two feet. When my vision focused, I saw children crowded around me, their vision directed elsewhere. I looked down at myself. I was wearing a country-fashioned baby blue plaid dress that came down to my knees. The sleeves were itchy, tight, and uncomfortable. I tugged awkwardly on them. My feet were clad in black shoes that were scuffed and covered thickly in dust. I scowled, disgusted with the ensemble.

A chirpy voice interrupted my train of thought. I looked up. A thin woman with obnoxious pink hair was chattering away into a mic. The children looking at her were dressed like poor people of the depression, unlike the eccentric dress the pink lady was sporting. The children looked depraved of all happiness. A thick woven rope separated the boys from the girls. It also appeared that the ages were separated. The adults that stood a little ways away looked anxious, some even looked downright terrified. But a few mingled throughout the crowd, passing money back and forth with emotionless faces.

"Ladies first," the lady announced. She approached a glass bowl and plucked a thin white paper from the midst of many others. She unfolded it and happily announced what was on the paper.

"Primrose Everdeen."

_Have a fun time figuring that one out. Ah, cliffhangers. The classic move of Rick Riordan. Full chapter will be up Wednesday! R&R! _


	15. Demigod visions really do suck

_I'm sorry you guys! I kind of got sick and just dropped everything I was doing! I don't own HG or PJO. _

_Thalia P.O.V. _

Oh, great. Some god decided play time was over and was now whisking me off to Hogwarts, which would actually be a step up from the situation I was in now.

I blink open my eyes. Dizziness fogs my mind and I wobble dangerously on my two feet. When my vision focuses, I see children crowded around me, their vision directed elsewhere. I look down at myself. I was wearing a country-fashioned baby blue plaid dress that came down to my knees. The sleeves were itchy, tight, and uncomfortable. I tug awkwardly on them. My feet were clad in black shoes that were scuffed and covered thickly in dust. I scowl, disgusted with the ensemble.

A chirpy voice interrupted my train of thought. I looked up. A thin woman with obnoxious pink hair was chattering away into a mic. The children looking at her were dressed like poor people of the depression, unlike the eccentric dress the pink lady was sporting. The children appear depraved of all happiness. A thick woven rope separated the boys from the girls. It also appeared that the ages were separated. The adults that stand a little ways away look anxious, some even look downright terrified. But a few mingle throughout the crowd, passing money back and forth with emotionless faces.

"Ladies first," the lady announces. She approaches a glass bowl and plucked a thin white paper from the midst of many others. She unfolds it and happily announces what was on the paper.

"Primrose Everdeen."

My mouth opened. I felt paralyzed. I watched with terrified eyes as the twelve year old moved slowly towards the stage. _NO_, I thought to myself. She was too young, too small, too innocent. They couldn't do this to a child.

"Prim," I felt myself say. _Who's Prim? I've heard this name somewhere. _

That's when I realized I wasn't me.

My skin wasn't my usual pale. My hair was bundled up on my head in a braid. My own hair was too short to be styled like that! My limbs were skinny with starvation. Without my permission, the body began to move. "Prim!"

_Wait! What are you doing?_

"I volunteer as tributw!" I screamed out. The voice was loud with hysteria, and it screamed like no one would hear it if it didn't. I knew this voice, but from where?

Suddenly, Gale Hawthorne pushed his way out of the crowd and lifted the girl off of the ground with his strong arms. He walked past me and whispered, "Up you go Catnip." His voice was layered with grief.

Catnip? Catnip? _KATNISS. _

_What? Who is this? _She thought back.

_What are you talking about? You know me, Katniss!_ I thought, finally figuring it out. I was trapped in Katniss Everdeen's body.

Katniss' eyebrows pulled down over her eyes with confusion. She hopped onto the stage towards the grotesque woman tentatively. I felt frail, like I was trapped in a cage and was watching something tremendously evil take place. Fear whirled through me in a maelstrom.

The woman asks for her name. "Katniss Everdeen," she whispers in a low voice. "Well I bet my buttons that was your sister!" the woman exclaims, a sick smile her powdered face.

"Now for the boys." The woman plucks a name out from a different glass bowl. "Peeta Mellark!" I felt Katniss' eyes widen.

A blond boy makes his way out of the crowd towards the stage. I watch with horror. How was he here? It couldn't be!

"Here are your tributes from District 12!"

Katniss shakes hands with a specter from my past.

My eyes snapped open.

Katniss and Gale were hunched over me. Gale had his hand on my forehead, and Katniss was saying something intelligible. I sat up groggily, shocking them. "How long was I out?" I asked.

"Only a moment. We haven't left the hovercraft," Gale replied.

I clasped Katniss for support. When our eyes met, she cocked her head to the side. I must've appeared quite concerning.

"I just realized, I recognize you voice," Katniss says.

_Sorry it took forever. This demigod dream stuff with happen again, be looking out for it. Sorry for the length, not exactly feeling well today. R&R please! Thanks you guys!_


	16. District 8

_Hey, guys, I know I've been gone a while, but I've got a reason. My computer has been acting all kinds of crazy (even as I'm typing it's going slow as molasses), and it's been a hectic time for me internet-wise. But I'm back on track now. _

_*hands you a white fluffy seal pup of apology*_

_You: *strokes seal pup all slow-like*_

_I don't own the Hunger Games or Percy Jackson. Most dialogue belongs to Suzanne Collins, though I have added a few words here and there. On with the show. _

_Due to recurring reviews, I have decided to add a quick parody. _

"_I just realized, I recognize your voice."_

_Suddenly, the walls around them seemed to have gained voices. They spoke in unison. "DUN, DUN DUN." _

_Katniss P.O.V. _

The hovercraft makes a quick spiral descent onto a wide road on the outskirts of 8. Almost immediately the door slams open, the stairs slide into place, and we are spit onto asphalt. The moment the last person disembarks, the equipment retracts. Then the craft lifts up and vanishes. I'm left with a bodyguard made up of Thalia, Gale, Boggs, and two other soldiers. The T.V. Crew consists of two burly Capitol cameramen with heavy mobile cameras encasing their bodies like insect shells, a woman director named Cressida, who has a shaved head with tattooed green vines, and her assistant, Messalla, a slim young man with several piercings.

Boggs hustles up off the road and toward a row of warehouses as a second hovercraft ducks in for a landing. This one consisting of crates of medical supply and six medics—I can tell because of their distinctive white outfits. We all follow Boggs down a dull gray alley between two equally dull and gray buildings. Thalia looks around with interest at the first place she has seen in all of Panem that is not 12 or 13.

When we emerge onto the street, it's like we've stepped through a portal into another world.

The wounded from this morning's bombing are being brought in. The air sings with moans of pain, and even the occasional cry of agony. They are on homemade stretchers, in wheelbarrows, on carts, slung across shoulders, and clenched tight in arms.

They are all bleeding, some limbless, some unconscious. Propelled by desperate people to a warehouse with a sloppily painted white _H _over the entrance.

It's a scene from my old kitchen, where my mother treated the dying, multiplied by ten, by fifty, by a hundred. I had expected bombed-out buildings but found myself confronted by broken human bodies.

This is where they plan on filming? I turn to Boggs. "This won't work," I say. "I won't be good here."

He must see the panic in my eyes, because he stops a moment and places his hands on my shoulder. "You will. Just let them _see _you. That will do more for them than any doctor in the world could."

A woman directing the incoming patients catch sight of us, does a sort of double take, and then strides over. Her dark brown eyes are puffy with fatigue and emotion and she smells of metal and sweat. A bandage stuck to her neck required changing about three days ago. The strap of an automatic weapon is slung across her back. With a jerk of her thumb, she directs the medics into the warehouse. They comply obediently and without question.

"This is Commander Paylor of Eight," says Boggs. "Commander, Soldier Katniss Everdeen."

She looks young to be a Commander. Perhaps in her early thirties. But there's an authoritative tone to her voice that makes you feel her appointment wasn't arbitrary.

"Yeah, I know you she is," says Paylor. "You're alive, then. We weren't sure." Am I wrong or is there a note of accusation in her voice?

"Whoa, lady, no reason to get sassy," Thalia says to Paylor. Paylor turns her head briskly towards her.

"Who is this...young lady?" she asks, disgust evident in her voice.

Boggs looks at his feet. "Commander, this is Soldier Thalia, er, what's your last name again?"

"I hate my last name."

"But what is it, I forgot?"

"Mind your own business."

Boggs groans, and starts talking to Paylor. "Katniss had been in recovery. Bad concussion." He lowers his voice. "Miscarriage. But she was insistent on heading out here to see your wounded."

"We've got plenty of those," Paylor replies.

"You think this is a good idea? Assembling your wounded like this?" Gale asks, inclining his head towards the hospital. I peronsally don't. A disease would spread like wildfire.

"I think it's slightly better than leaving them to rot and die," Paylor says.

"That's not what I meant," Gale replies, apologetic.

"Well, currently, that's my only option. But if you come up with a third one and get Coin to back it, I'm all ears." Paylor waves us towards the door. "Come in Mockingjay, and by all means bring your friends."

I glance back at the freak show that is my crew, steel myself, and follow her inside. Some sort of heavy, industrial curtain hangs the length of the building, forming a sizable corridor. Corpses lay side by side, curtains brushing their heads, white cloths concealing their faces. "We've got a mass grave started a few blocks west of here, but I can't spare the manpower to move them yet." She finds a spilt in the curtain and opens it wide.

My fingers wrap around Gale's wrist. "Do not leave my side," I order.

"I'm right here," he consoles me.

"Annnd, I'm clearly a third wheel today," Thalia says, looking pale from seeing the corpses.

I step through the curtain and my senses are assaulted. My first impulse is to block out the smell of soiled linen, putrefying flesh, and vomit, all ripening in the heat of the warehouse. I can make out row upon row of wounded, in cots, on pallets, and even on the floor there's so little space. The drone of black flies, the moans of the hurt, and the sobs of the attending loved ones have combined into a horrible deafening melody.

We have no real hospitals in the districts. We die at home, which at the moment seems a much better alternative than what I see lying in front of me. Then I remember that many of these people have lost their homes in the bombing.

Sweat begins to pour down my neck, fill my palms. I breathe through my mouth in hopes to diminish the smell. Black spots swim across my vision, and I think that there is a really real chance I could faint. But I catch sight of Paylor, who's watching me like a hawk, waiting to see what I am made of, and if any of them have been right to count on me. I move deeper into the warehouse. Thalia follows me almost robotic-like, her eyes burning into my head.

"Katniss?" A voice croaks from my left. "Katniss?" A hand reaches for me out of the haze. Not thinking, I cling to it for moral support. Attached to it is a young woman with an injured leg. Blood has seeped through the bandages, which are crawling with flies. Her faces reflects her pain, but something else too, something that seems completely incongruous with her situation. "Is it really you?"

"Yeah, it's me," I get out.

Joy. That's the expression on her face. At the sound of my voice, she brightens, erasing the suffering momentarily.

"You're alive! We didn't know. People said you were, but we didn't know!" she says excitedly.

"I got pretty banged up, but I got better. Just like you will," I say.

"I've got to tell my brother!" The woman struggles to sit up and call to someone a few beds down. "Eddy! Eddy! She's here! It's Katniss Everdeen!"

A boy, probably about twelve years old, turns to us. Bandages obscure half of his face. The side of the mouth I can see opens as if to utter an exclamation. I go to him, push his damp brown curls back from his forehead. Murmur a greeting. He can't speak, but his one good eye fixes on me with such an intensity, as if he's trying to memorize every detail of my face.

I turn back to the woman. Thalia has walked up next to her. In her moment of joy, she had launched and grabbed hold of Thalia's hand. Thalia starts, and stares at the woman. Her fingers are loose, not holding back. She scrutinizes the woman's curly blond hair, the gray eyes. Slowly, her fingers come alive, and grips back fiercely.

The look on her face is something I have never seen on her usually obnoxious profile. It is somber, and horrified. No trace of her outgoing personality is left. The look covers her whole frame. She is even carrying herself differently. As she looks at the crowd and back at the woman, I recognize the look. It is a look I have seen every day of my life while looking in the mirror. It is the look of someone who has been through hell and back.

Before I can marvel more at this new, more mature Thalia, I hear my name rippling through the hot steamy hair, spreading through the hospital. "Katniss! Katniss Everdeen!" The sounds of pain and grief begin to recede, replaced by words of anticipation. From all sides, voices beckon me. I begin to move, clasping hands extended to me, touching the sound parts of those unable to move their limbs, saying hello, how are you, good to meet you. Nothing of importance, no amazing words of inspiration. But it dosen't matter. Boggs is right. It's the sight of me, alive, that is the inspiration.

_I'm reading this book called DIVERGENT right now that's really good. I like it, a lot. And I got a book called Matched, but after the Twilight craze, I tend to avoid things with love-triangles and are reviewed as 'sexy.' If you've read it, can I have an opinion? _

_Again, sorry for the wait. My computer was on drugs. R&R please. Thank you! _


	17. Hiatus Announcement

_Hey you guys, I'm here to officially announce my hiatus—which will last until March. I'm sorry. I promise I'll be back. Between stress, reading City of Bones (which was good by the way), becoming obsessed with Tumblr, starting Beautiful Creatures (I hope it'll be good) and more stress, I haven't had much time to write. _

_Oh yeah—I got asked if Katniss is a demigod. And my answer is: no. NO. I have no intention of turning any character into anything of a mary-sue. The only thing that suggests anything mary-sueish is their connection. The initial plot-line will remain the same, I promise. _

_I will be back soon. Thank you all for putting up with me! _


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